“I can’t wait,” Evie whispered in a soft excited breath. She closed her diary and tied the pink satin ribbon to seal it. Her eyes scanned the many letters and other writings strewn about her bed, and she snatched up her favorites and poured over them again. His heart was so pure, his words gentle yet passionate. They gave her tingles every time she read them.

His words, about her.

Evie’s fingers trembled as she held the compositions in her hands, her eyes tracing them over and over again. “How beautiful you are, my darling,” her heart raced and she held a quickened breath. “You have eyes like doves.” What a poet! Words of love forged in perfect expression, and all for her! She bit her lip and read another. “You are precious in my eyes,” Evie squealed and rolled on her bed and read it again lying upside down, then hugged the pages to herself.

He didn’t always write poems of love. He was deep and complicated, sensitive and full of empathy. He would share with her his joys, his grief, things that angered him, and things that made him weep. His love was deep and passionate, and so his heart’s wounds went deep as well. And these he shared with her, too. Tears welled up in her eyes when she thought of his pain, and she shared his grieving in love. Evie knew his heart and loved him all the more she knew. And she wanted more. She wanted to know his past, his future, his plans, his desires, his wants, his hates, every little thing. She couldn’t get enough.

“It’s like an addiction,” she once confessed to her best friend in a shy moment. “But in a good way.” Then she giggled. “A VERY good way.” And they both shared a laugh.

Long distance relationships can take their toll on the heart, and even though absence makes the heart grow fonder, it also grieves the heart in mourning for the parting, day by day, hour by hour, minute by agonizing minute. Somehow, though, he always made her feel as though he were right there with her, even though a great and grievous distance separated them. She hated being apart from him, it wasn’t fair, it was a crime against love and the world was to blame. Everyone was to blame!

She had his promise, though. She didn’t have a ring, but she had his promise, and he was a man of integrity, a man of his word. She would be his bride, they would be together forever. He promised! But the waiting was not to be endured. It wasn’t fair!

“It’s NOT FAIR!” Evie shouted to the heavens, then sulked back onto the bed. She had his writings and they’d have to do for now. She felt closer to him when she read his words. Evie imagined his voice when she read every night, and she felt him close by when she did. And she would drift off to sleep in a reverie of love.

She knew there were other women in his past, others who loved him as well. It would be impossible for there not to be, and so she had to accept this. He didn’t try to hide his past and she knew all about them. He had been a Knight in Shining Armor and had rescued some from the jaws of disaster, and to others he was kind when none around were, and still some favorites who would never be away from him if ever they could help it. She fiercely envied the ones who spent time with him. It was time she could never have with him. To see his eyes, to hear his voice, just to watch him be with children. It was all unfair!

But she had his promise, and he had given her a precious gift, and their love was sealed with it. Time was on her side, after all. They would be together. Forever! She grasped a page and read again, the words dancing before her eyes.

“In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

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Wonderful writing here! I can't think of anything here to change, except maybe if it were longer! ^_^ I liked how you didn't hint 'who' it was right away but let the reader figure it out. Evie was a delightful character, I think we could all take an example from this. Very well done.